Chase continued to watch Kelly massage his girlfriend, vexed but now also fascinated. He had calmed down considerably the farther Kelly got away from her behind, and now that they were on their backs, he could easily monitor the other man’s hands on her shoulders. He looked detached, the sure sign he was comfortable with his own firm resolution and willing to wait for its moment. He watched the hands rub her supple flesh in a way that suggested he had mentally replaced them with his own. He was engrossed with the swirling motion of skin on skin. Amanda began to do the same thing, watching him watching her, and soon envisioned it was Chase’s powerful hands massaging her. Kelly’s now felt limp and weak by comparison. She reached out her hand from beneath the sheet and blanket and extended it in his direction, longing for his touch. A moment later his hand was there, his fingers webbing with hers. His thumb gently played with each of her fingertips while her hand rested on top of his. They kept the contact while the massages continued, until Kelly sat at Amanda’s head and began to massage her scalp, his fingers working up her neck and weaving deep within her hair. Chase’s grip tightened on her hand, her fingers forced to drape over his now balled fist. Apparently, he considered her hair a sore spot and off limits as well. Eventually, he returned his hand back to his side, closed his eyes against it, and patiently waited for the hour to end. By the time it was over, everyone in the room had broken out into a sweat, all for different reasons.
“All done,” Bobbi said, and Kelly’s sigh that the ordeal was over was poorly contained.
“Is it possible for us to book another hour?” Chase politely got right to his point from his table, his eyes still closed and all the confidence that his request would be accommodated.
Following Chase’s lead, Amanda remained on her table, but from half-closed eyes, caught Kelly looking desperately at Bobbi, shaking his head slightly but vigorously.
“I’m sorry, but we have other clients . . .” Bobbi began.
“That’s okay,” Chase continued pleasantly. “You did a great job, Bobbi, thank you. I feel completely relaxed. I was just hoping to take advantage of it, maybe take a nap, chat with my girlfriend. I’m really more interested in the room. And by all means, bill me for the extra hour, both for you and Kelly.”
Kelly relaxed, thanked them, and vacated the room, telling them to have a nice day. Amanda bit back a snicker; he’d earned it.
“I guess that would be all right,” Bobbi said hesitantly.
“If I don’t see you back in here in thirty seconds, I’ll go ahead and assume it is,” Chase said smoothly, and Amanda stifled a shudder. He said it cordially, but it sounded more like he had just dismissed her, an unmistakable air of authority reflected in his tone. Bobbi was quick to respond and told them they were also welcome to wait at the fish tanks and she’d see them in an hour. If that was what he reduced a virtual stranger to, Amanda could only imagine what was in store for her.
The door quietly closed and Amanda continued to lie on her table with her eyes closed. Silence lingered and she strained to hear further movement within the room.
“Amanda,” he said, finally breaking the stillness. He sounded almost amused. “It’s time to face the music. Sit up.”
Amanda opened one eye and looked over at him. He was already sitting on his table. She had never heard him move. He was stealthy, like all predators, silent while stalking. She sat up across from him, their knees barely touching, and tried to give him her best come-hither look in the attempt to soften his wrath.
“You are just about the naughtiest girl I ever met. What did I say about another man touching you?”
“That you didn’t want me to talk about it?”
In the dim lighting of the spa room, she could see his eyes shoot out vivid green sparks along with the flash of white teeth when he couldn’t keep from smiling. His shoulder and arm muscles were shiny from the oil used for his massage and they flexed while he allowed himself a single laugh before getting back down to business.
“Splitting hairs when you’re in so much trouble? Do you really think that’s wise?”
She didn’t know if it was wise, but it certainly had been satisfying. Amanda averted her eyes to the thin door made mostly of bamboo slats. Surely he wouldn’t try to discipline her here, not with a spa full of people all striving for serenity just beyond it. It was bad enough there were at least two employees with the impression that in the next hour there was likely to be some hanky-panky, which sadly was also unlikely. America’s Golden Boy would never risk being called out for rutting in a suburban day spa.
“Just what were you trying to prove? Please tell me you at least had a plan?” He interrupted her thought process with the overindulgence indicative of a dominant man fully embracing his role.
“Of course I had a plan,” she contended, sounding confident, which was easy as long as she was concentrating on the door.
The plan had played out in her mind that they would be forced to sit together in the secluded yet still public fish tank area, where she could sweet-talk him or further infuriate him as they lounged and rehydrated over glasses of ice water with lemon. Then after that, they would need to go get dressed, thereby giving her more time to let him cool off and she could offer to take him for lunch. Or she could get ready to hear the voice. Either way, by nightfall she’d be getting exactly what she wanted. But he had turned the tables on her. They were now alone in the same room, completely naked for the next hour. She may not have bested him at all. He had probably already formulated his course of action while watching Kelly go to work on her glutes. Now he was just going to toy with her.
“Look at me,” he quietly insisted.
Her gaze drifted up his legs to his torso, stopping to quiver again at the sight of one of his huge hands, resting on the table alongside his thigh, the sheet draped casually over them. She knew all the things that one of those paws was capable of. Even his forearms were laced in muscle and bulk. His abs rippled up to the shelves that were his pecs. By the time she reached his neck, she had determined he resembled a Roman gladiator, having just finished a successful day in the colosseum. One who had slayed any opponent, man or beast, with nothing other than his bare hands; okay, maybe he’d used a stick. She briefly went back to the sheet, knowing full well it was barely covering what in her opinion was his most dangerous weapon. The thought alone was enough to set her pulse racing. She finally reached his eyes and tried not to gasp. His gaze was fixated on her, indomitable and burning.
“How long has this guy been massaging you?” Chase growled preemptively in anticipation of her answer.
“It’s the first time,” she said, feeling her bravado starting to go into a tailspin. “I’ve always used Bobbi in the past.”
“Really?” Chase said blandly, in direct contrast with the vein on the side of his neck that was starting to bulge as his jaw clenched. He honestly didn’t know which was worse. “So you did all of this just to wind me up and set me off?”
“You told me to give it my best shot,” Amanda squeaked, all her nerve officially nose-diving.
“That I did,” he conceded calmly, way too calmly. “Is it my turn now?”
Gulp. He wanted his turn now. He wasn’t supposed to get his turn until later, much later, after he’d cooled down and they were alone. Not waiting for her answer, Chase removed his sheet and stood. Amanda watched his broad back and wonderful, tight buns walk over to where their robes were still hanging. He put his own on, tying the sash tightly before taking her robe off its hook and going back to her. Towering over her, he looked down at her and said quietly. “Stand up, please.”
She immediately did as he bid, trying to bring the sheet with her, feeling both suddenly modest and now like she needed some sort of protection. He had to know the door didn’t have a lock. He pulled the sheet away from her now-sweaty grip, placing it back on the table.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, trying desperately to keep from trembling.
“Arm, please,” he requested, ignor
ing her question. She held out her arm and he slipped the sleeve of her robe on. He gently brought the rest of the garment around her, helping her into it, his concentration fully on the menial chore.
Then he pulled the sash from the loops on each side of the robe from one side until it was free and in his hands. He brought his eyes back up to hers.
“Hands together, in front of you,” he commanded, no longer courteous or accommodating.
Amanda automatically joined her hands together. Chase took the sash and began to wrap it around her wrists. After wrapping it around them twice, he brought the ends together and held them in one hand, giving a little tug on them. He finally smiled.
“How you feeling about your plan now?” His voice was pure liquid devilry. Satisfied her wrists were secure, he released them. Then he walked back over to the door.
“I’d feel better if I knew what you were going to do,” she confessed after hearing the click. The door had a lock after all.
“I’ll bet you would.” He chuckled, resuming his grasp and gently lifting the ends of the sash until her arms were suspended just over her head. He took a step closer to her, without actually making contact. “As soon as I heard that guy’s voice, I knew what you were about, although I couldn’t believe it. You can take pride in getting the reaction you were looking for. Well played. I wanted to rip this entire room apart. And I think you should thank your lucky stars I don’t have access to my pants, because I was seriously considering how great it would feel to take my belt off, but for now yours will have to do.”
She failed at holding back the gasp this time and blinked up at him, no longer nervous but now increasingly excited. He was actually talking weapons; she had really ticked him off. A spa full of people was now the furthest thing from her mind; her thoughts were now all Chase Walker. She tried to lean in to him, her hands still over her head and he easily evaded her, maintaining full control by her wrists. He brought his mouth near her ear, again careful not to make contact, and whispered, “But then again, making me angry was your purpose for the whole exercise, wasn’t it?”
She couldn’t answer; she was focused on his warm gentle baritone, measured and rhythmic. She knew this voice. It was the one that made her crazy and usually ended in her rapture.
“Which leaves me with a real problem,” he continued in her ear. “You’ve requested a very private punishment in a rather public setting. And because you control me, I have to give you what you want. And don’t worry, angel, you may still get your wish.” He then added, “Although I make no promises as to when.”
What was that? Her pulse quickened again and she pulled her head away from his, trying to focus on him with wide eyes. Did he just say he wasn’t going to spank her?
He laughed a little, wrapping another length of the sash around his knuckles, pulling her closer to him, still without touching her. “I forgot to mention, topping from the bottom usually backfires.”
He waited for her to settle back down before whispering, “By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be begging me to violate you ten ways till Sunday.”
Then he waited for the chill to pass through her before adding, “But until then, I’m not going to touch you. After all, your folks are members here.”
He took a healthy lock of her hair and twirled it around his fingers, careful not to pull. “I love your hair. I’m taken by all of you, but your hair is second to only one other part of you. And although I consider even the tips of your toes mine, there are some parts that are more exclusive than others. Do you know what body part tops that list?”
Chase stepped back from her, lifted her arms a bit higher above her head, and his free hand dipped into her robe, softly grazing the underside of her breast with his fingers. He gently flicked his fingertip against an already taut nipple and he heard her breath catch deep in her throat.
“Okay,” he said, low and husky, his hand moving to her other breast, lightly tracing a circle around it. “I may have lied about the touching, but you’re still going to learn a little lesson about control. Come on, take a guess. What body part will you never ever share with another man again?”
Amanda had to lean back against the massage table. Between his hot breath against her ear, his hand committing a torture of the most feathery kind, and her arms still above her head, she was dizzy enough to actually faint. If it caught him by surprise, she could dislocate a shoulder when she became deadweight. That sort of embarrassment wasn’t out of the question, as her history would dictate.
“I’ve taken the control, all of it. It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” he whispered before lightly biting down on her earlobe. His fingertips brushed faintly between her breasts and down over her navel. She pulled against the restraints on her wrists and spread her legs slightly apart in anticipation and he stopped.
“You may have traumatized a completely competent massage therapist out of his career. At the very least, you took ten years off his life. He looked pretty shaken up. You should feel bad about that.” His fingertips danced a little bit lower.
“I do, Chase, I do. I feel like crying,” she whispered, breathlessly exhaling the admission. All she had to do was tell him to stop and he would. She wasn’t worried about his stopping; she was terrified he wouldn’t keep going. His thick fingers made little spirals down and back up her thigh as they continued on their quest. When he passed lightly over her sex, it produced an all-consuming throb and she tried to trap his hand there by closing her legs. And he almost allowed it, but then denied her, returning to their quiz.
“That would be a logical guess and totally up there, but that one goes without saying. Try again.”
He continued slowly swirling his fingertips around her thigh before coming to rest possessively on her behind. He gave it a little squeeze followed by a gentle pat.
“I think we reached the end of the riddle.” She sighed softly.
“Ever heard the phrase ‘You won’t be able to sit for week’?” He asked offhandedly, squeezing again. “I almost want to put that one to the test.”
And then he leaned into her. He was full and hard and it pressed into her stomach. He may have teased her to the point of distraction, but there was no denying she had succeeded in arousing him as well, and he wanted her to know it. With her arms still suspended above her head, tight within the sash and his grip, she blinked up at him.
“I certainly deserve it. I’ve been a very bad girl,” Amanda said seductively. He let out a rush of air and his sex pulsated against her.
“And you’re so good at it,” he ground out, releasing her arms, which fell neatly over his head and around his neck as he lifted her. His mouth covered hers just in time to stifle her ecstasy-filled cry when he buried his erection inside her.
CHAPTER 11
“FEEL LIKE TAKING a ride? There’s something I want to show you,” Chase asked Amanda rhetorically one afternoon after he picked her up at her apartment. The enjoyment in their road trips never waned. Moments alone midseason were precious and few. He didn’t say anything more and they drove away from the city and headed northwest. They talked of the usual, how they’d spent the day, the chores they’d done. Amanda asked no questions and made no guesses as to their destination and Chase didn’t give any clues, which had become their standard practice. Surprising each other was a contest, and not always about high stakes. Less than an hour later, they were off the highway and onto picturesque streets. At the intersection of what appeared to be a dirt road, Amanda saw a very familiar black Ford Expedition with tinted windows. Chase gave a haphazard wave in its direction and turned onto the unpaved trail, giving little thought to the damage the uneven terrain might cause to his hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar driving machine.
What has he found now? Amanda smiled to herself, wondering if they were going to spend a half hour marveling at some rock with a plaque near it that said George Washington rested a foot there. Chase loved history, the American Revolution in particular, and New Jersey was lousy with it.
She had accompanied him to countless state parks and monuments, but he sometimes also went off the beaten path to lesser-known bridges and barns and battlefields. And it never ceased to amaze her how he could turn from a grown man to an enthusiastic juvenile whenever he encountered them. He took pictures of them with his phone; sometimes video. She recalled one of the rare times he’d pimped out his celebrity status after driving to a site that was now a private home. But the house had been meticulously preserved and was just too authentic for him to pass up. He had pulled in front of it, grabbed a signed baseball out of his trunk, and knocked on the door. And because he was Chase Walker, the proud if not surprised owners had spent nearly two hours giving them a tour. He listened and pondered aloud with the middle-aged couple over iced tea in a pristine garden what it must have been like to have been there, the trials and tribulations of the country’s forefathers forging a nation. She had determined Chase really did have an old soul.
But it turned out they weren’t on a road at all. They were on a driveway, a very long one. It was hard to tell exactly how long, because there were still acres of trees left to be cleared. It led to what Amanda could only describe as a castle. It was vast, complete with a round tower on one end, the kind that Rapunzel would’ve let her hair down from the top of. Only it didn’t look dilapidated and historical. This particular structure looked brand-new. In fact, it looked like it was still under construction. The frame was sturdy and solid, the gray stonework completed, but the walkways were unfinished, much like the driveway. Landscaping had yet to be done. Chase drove up to the front of it and cut the engine.
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